


La Petite Mort

by idonthaveyourappetite, ThisIsMyDesignHannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Beginnings, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Developing Relationship, Dominance, Face-Fucking, First Time Blow Jobs, Fresh Meat Friday, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal wants to show Will something new, M/M, Mild S&M, Porn with Feelings, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Scar touching, Scars, Slow Build, Some D/s elements, Will Graham is a Tease, Will is demanding, Will is too sore for sex, kindof, really they're just having fun with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idonthaveyourappetite/pseuds/idonthaveyourappetite, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsMyDesignHannibal/pseuds/ThisIsMyDesignHannibal
Summary: Playfulness was truly never something Hannibal and Will expected to feel blossoming between them, but after a lazy day spent basking in the glow of their newfound intimacy, playfulness seems to come surprisingly easy, providing the backdrop to explore a whole new side of their relationship.Will revels in his ability to tease what he wants from Hannibal, and Hannibal wants to give Will everything he never even knew he wanted, even if that means denying him what he asks for. They both let their playful sides come through as they learn what pushes each other’s buttons. But even in play, neither of them can help wanting to push the other as far as they can go…as always.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Psssst....this is an excessive reciprocal blow job fic with feels ;P
> 
> Although this fic can stand on it's own, it is the third part in a series (which we have yet to name, so it has yet to become a proper series on here!). The first is [Blood Will Have Blood](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8794681/chapters/20162383) , the second is [Every Day, Forever](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9228548/chapters/20929559)
> 
> We hope you enjoy! Stay tuned for more!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are magical and much appreciated. xo
> 
> We are [thisismydesignhannibal](https://thisismydesignhannibal.tumblr.com/) and [idonthaveyourappetite](https://idonthaveyourappetite.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. Come flail at us!

The low light of evening slanted through the window, casting filtered warmth across the couch where Will lay draped over Hannibal’s lap, languid and utterly at ease. He’d kept Hannibal's red cashmere sweater on all day over his boxers, not bothering to dress. The day itself had passed soft and dreamlike, barely a moment passing without their eyes catching or hands brushing together, voices warm and smiles easy. It didn’t feel entirely real, this tender domesticity between them, brimming with affection and levity — it was almost shocking how comfortable it was, like stepping into a familiar dream. 

Relishing the slow caress of Hannibal's fingers through his hair, Will mused lazily over everything that had happened between them since last night. The _intensity_ of it certainly felt real enough — the desire and passion, the pain and the pleasure…the violence…even the outpouring of love — it still felt visceral, electric, a brilliant counterpoint to this newfound comfort between them that had bloomed throughout the day. 

Will yawned and stretched, almost catlike, enjoying the feel of Hannibal's body beneath him. With mock effort, he dragged himself up to stand with a sigh, but his tone was light and teasing. “I’m getting some coffee. Need some? With your age you might appreciate the boost, _Doctor_.” 

Hannibal laughed easily in response, “ I do believe it was you who fell asleep on me for over an hour this afternoon, while I remained wide awake.” 

Will couldn’t get enough of the warmth in Hannibal’s tone, the playfulness he could hear rippling at its edges. He was _enjoying_ himself — they both were. Will also couldn't have imagined _teasing_ Hannibal Lecter a year ago — hell, even a _week_ ago. In a way, this easy banter between them was almost the biggest surprise of all — void of any malice, cloaking neither deceit nor vulnerability. 

As Will moved to walk away, he knew he’d been almost asking to feel the firm hands that grabbed him, pulling him back down to straddle Hannibal’s lap. Will grinned when he felt a pinch, playful but _hard_ on his hip. 

“Where do you think you’re going with that sass?” Hannibal knew it was useless trying to keep the smile off his face. He didn’t want to. Instead he cupped his hands under Will’s ass and jerked him forward, pulling him in even closer — relishing the surprised bark of a laugh Will let out as his feet came up off the ground, knees to the couch, hands bracing against his chest for balance. Hannibal marveled at the coy smile that spread across Will’s face — his chuckle low and teasing as he tried to regain the upper hand. Will was already learning what that smile did to him. _Beautiful minx…how can you be so perfect?_

“I believe coffee would be a poor substitute for what I already have right here. I'm quite sure I have everything I need.” Hannibal meant it — he felt those words so profoundly they seemed predestined. How _light_ they’d become. Today had proven to him that contentment wasn’t merely a concept designed for lesser minds. Nor was happiness. Today he had felt the promise of everything he had never allowed himself to need.

Hannibal let his hands glide up Will’s back, feeling his muscles ripple and coil beneath the soft cashmere, responding beguilingly to his touch. Grasping Will's shoulders, he ground him down even harder into his lap. Will's low groan, his _responsiveness,_ resonated through Hannibal’s body as he melted down against him, dipping his head to drag teasing lips along his throat. 

“I was merely offering a cupful of youthful energy.” He could hear Will's wry smile behind the words as Will nuzzled at his neck, stubble and hot breath coaxing a pleasant thrill up his spine. 

“Mmmm…you’re not going anywhere, Will.”

Will pushed back to sit up, hands splayed against his chest, one eyebrow raised in mock indignation. “Is that an order, _Doctor_? Be careful you’re not starting something you can’t finish.”

Hannibal knew he would let Will tease him to the ends of the earth if it meant he would get to see the playfulness that flashed now in his eyes — if he could always feel this… _ease_. But he also knew the fun that could be had in wiping that smile off his face and replacing it with cries for mercy… 

“You can tease me all you like, Will, but I think we both know who’s worn out here” 

Will knew he was right, of course, but he had no intention of conceding the point. He _was_ sore. Hannibal had already taken him twice in the last 24 hours — taken him _hard_ , just as Will had needed him to…just as he had _begged_ him to. Despite Hannibal’s care in preparing him, it had been his first time and his body ached deliciously. The ghost of Hannibal's presence inside him was shockingly erotic. He knew Hannibal was only trying to be cognizant of letting him push past limits that both of them would rather ignore…but that didn’t make Will want him any less. Nor did it make him ready to back down from a challenge. 

"Well, if I'm worn out, it's entirely your fault." He made sure Hannibal saw the smirk on his face before letting his head fall briefly, lazily, against his shoulder, melting against him once again until he heard Hannibal’s low purr and felt his body begin to respond under him. It spurred him on, stoking his own hunger. Will pushed himself away once again, fixing Hannibal with burning eyes — laying down a challenge he knew Hannibal couldn't ignore. "Besides, haven't you always found me to be surprisingly resilient?"  

Not waiting for a response, Will quickly made another move to get up… barely getting his feet on the floor before Hannibal's hands were on him once again, pulling him down with even more insistence. This time his back was pressed to Hannibal's chest, lips and teeth hot against his ear. _Claiming.  
_

"Will..." Hannibal's voice was a low and almost dangerous purr...it would almost have sounded like a warning if Will couldn't hear the indulgence there, the _amusement_. Feeling reckless in his newfound power, Will arched back in Hannibal's arms, head against his shoulder, his own breath catching a little on his teasing, challenging reply.

"Yes, Hannibal?" 

Before Will could manage any more smart remarks, Hannibal moved quickly, smiling to himself — one hand slid fluidly to Will’s throat, pulling him back against him tightly, snaking his other hand beneath his sweater. He could feel Will’s body thrum with tension as his fingers found that unmistakable ridge of scar tissue — _his_ scar. Will’s breath quickened, throat contracting under his palm. Hannibal dragged his fingernails lightly along its full length before pressing down, _hard,_ at its centre. Will positively shuddered under his palm, a moan instantly wrung from him as his head fell back onto Hannibal’s shoulder, his desire momentarily drowning all of that charming insolence _._

“Mmm… Beautiful.” He kept his lips close to Will’s ear. “ _Mine._ ”

His words earned him another delicious moan, Will's lips parting and curling into a smile. Hannibal held tight to Will’s throat, continuing to stroke his scar possessively — loving the feel of it under his fingers, pressing and kneading — loving Will’s responsiveness to his touch, his inability to control himself. Already he was panting and squirming in his lap, his cock swelling against the thin cotton of his boxers. Hannibal felt his own cock respond as he watched Will bite into the meat of his lower lip. 

“Fuck…Hannibal…” Will’s words were a groan, his eyes squeezed shut. Hannibal’s fingers traced the scar once more, an undeniable _claim._

“Yes, Will?” Hannibal darkly mimicked Will’s mocking tone, tempting… _coaxing,_ along with his hands.

“You’re the one…who said I was too worn out…” Will managed. His voice was rough but Hannibal could see a mischievous smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth as he rolled his hips provocatively. He moved his hand from Will’s throat up to coil tightly in his curls, pulling his head back, lapping a teasing tongue once up Will's throat, tasting him.

“Mmm…you are…and I have thoroughly enjoyed wearing you out.” Hannibal pressed down once again on Will’s scar, coaxing yet another exquisite sigh, “But if I completely ruin you today, I won’t be able to enjoy you tomorrow.” He allowed a smile to spread over his lips with those words. He wanted Will to hear that smile, hot against his ear — he wanted Will to know that pleasure was the only lesson he offered here today. But pleasure could come in many forms…

“Fuck…Hannibal…God…I don’t care. I want you. Again. Now.” Will ground his ass into his lap…provoking…pushing… _demanding_. 

Electric anticipation flushed through Will’s body as Hannibal’s hands momentarily stilled, his words finally coming as a growl in his ear. “Take off the sweater, Will." Will felt his body respond immediately, almost instinctively, as he rushed to pull it over his head, baring himself to Hannibal's eyes and hands and teeth.

"Good." Hannibal nipped his earlobe, teeth catching there, and the praise sent warmth surging through him. Hannibal's fingers travelled the scar on his stomach, this time soft as a caress. 

Will couldn't keep himself still, desire and recklessness rooting inside him and taking hold — rivaled only by a craving to make Hannibal feel the same overwhelming need. But Hannibal was again pressing his hand possessively into his stomach, causing any coherent thoughts he had to shatter and flee. 

Hannibal’s voice in his ear was quiet, but it felt as undeniable as gravity. "This is mine." The hand tangling sharply in his hair was a delectable contrast to the fingers tracing lightly down his stomach, leaving his scar to slip under the waistband of his boxers. Hannibal's hand gripped him tightly. So did his voice. " _All of you_ belongs to me."  

Will moaned in assent, the dark current of Hannibal's words flowing from his stomach to his cock and back again. He hadn't known _need_ like this, the need to be filled and taken and _owned_ and...

"Hannibal — “ he managed to grit out. "I need you. Now. I _don't care_ if it hurts…" even in his haze of desperation he registered the soft hitch of Hannibal's breath, how he pulled him even tighter against him. Reckless need spurred him on "Damn it…I _want_ it to hurt…" 

That earned him a low moan in his ear. Will knew the effect his own words could have, but his mind and body thrummed with excitement as he realized just how true those words were…

“Hannibal. I _like_ it when you hurt me." 

Hannibal's hands both grabbed him hard by the hips, pulling him down hard as he bucked under him… _Yes_ …Will practically sobbed in relief — relief that his confession had _worked,_ that Hannibal had given in and would finally indulge him, that he had cracked that impossible control, that he had _won_. A smile spread across his face. He was so close, so _close_ to getting what he wanted, to that terrible, wonderful _completion_ , that fullness just shy of too much... 

Hannibal forced himself to remember his resolve. He knew he shouldn’t fuck Will again no matter how much he provoked him, but he could barely think with Will’s words echoing in his head. _I want it to hurt…_ As always Will new exactly what to say and do to overwhelm his composure. He always had. But it was the knowledge that Will truly _meant it_ that had his restraint pushed to its limits. Undoubtedly, this was exactly what Will was trying to do, playfully testing the effect he had on him, teasing him into getting what he wanted, but knowing that didn't make him any easier to resist. _Quite the opposite._ Hannibal smiled a private smile, playfully nipping again at Will’s neck, pulling him down against his cock, hard and insistent. He wanted nothing more than to give Will everything he demanded…

“You know exactly what you do to me, don’t you…” He whispered in Will’s ear. Will responded by grinding his ass even harder into his swelling erection, his naked back pressed against his chest.

“Of course I do,” Will breathed out, his hands reaching back over his head to twine through Hannibal’s hair, his hips rolling into him deliciously, “You’re mine too, Hannibal. All of _you_ belongs to me. And I want you. Now.” 

Hannibal felt heat flush through his body, concentrating in his stomach and groin. He didn’t wait a second longer. Standing up, he grabbed Will around the waist, spinning him around and pushing him back down so Will now sat on the couch. Surprise flashed on Will’s face but was quickly replaced by satisfaction, benignly smug that he was getting exactly what he had been pushing for. Hannibal allowed a devilish smile to slowly spread across his lips, pausing only a second before dropping down to his knees between Will’s thighs. 

“Sometimes, Will, gratification lies in _not_ getting exactly what we think we want.”

Not waiting for a reply, he pulled Will’s boxers under his ass and all the way off. Completely naked now, his cock was hard and leaking against his stomach — eyes piercing, body thrumming in anticipation. Hannibal leaned down slowly, only breaking eye contact at the last minute, snaking his tongue out to lick the full length of Will’s cock. Hearing Will suck in his breath, he paused only briefly to dip his tongue into the musky wetness he found at the tip, teasing, provoking… before mercilessly swallowing him down completely, taking him deep into his throat in one fluid motion.

Will let loose a full, open-mouthed cry — hands flying up to grip hard at his hair, body arching like a bowstring beneath him. Hannibal let Will’s cock slide even further into his throat, earning him yet another desperate moan. Taking all of him in, he held him there, his mouth and throat deliciously full, the taste and smell of Will engulfing his senses. He relished the sound of Will’s desperate panting, fists tight in his hair, finally dragging his lips up his length, over the swollen tip, slowly releasing him completely, fingers circling to hold Will’s swollen cock at its base, cupping his balls against his body with the palm of his hand. Looking up through his lashes, Hannibal pinned Will’s eyes with his own — his pupils were blown black, full of need… 

“Do you want more, Will? I want to hear you say it.”

Will heard a desperate, strangled sound wrench itself free from his throat, somewhere between a groan and a whimper. He couldn’t help his hips from arching up off the couch towards Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal's free hand grabbed his hipbone and forced him back down, fingers pressing into bruises left there the night before, echoing the memory back to him, pressing just harder than necessary, a reminder. _You're mine. All of you._ Some deeper need bloomed inside him, bled into the _insistence_ of his arousal.

“Yes, _more_ , damn it!” Will could barely formulate the thought. He felt Hannibal's lips curl in amusement against his inner thigh, teeth nipping at him again, lips dragging against his skin — his voice, when it came, was playful yet commanding _._ "Mmmm…how very rude you are, Will _._ Perhaps you should try again." 

If he wasn't so impossibly turned on, Will would have laughed aloud. Hannibal could apparently give as well as he got in the teasing department, and he was clearly  _enjoying_ this — eyes sparkling darkly, but also with genuine pleasure, a pleasure that was thrillingly, _achingly_ welcome… 

But Hannibal's hand was once again traveling up his stomach, obliterating his ability to think — pressing, caressing, _demanding_ — connecting his scar and his cock with the deep  _ache_ inside him, reminding him where Hannibal had _possessed_ him so completely. Will couldn't help but moan, "Hannibal, yes…more…  _please._ "

Obviously satisfied, eyes gleaming, Hannibal gave him a small and private smile before taking him once again into his mouth, and  _fuck_ but it was warm and soft and  _devouring —_ pleasure so intense he couldn't keep himself still. He gasped and panted, hands coming up once again to fist in Hannibal's hair, unsure if he was trying to push Hannibal away or pull him down farther. _More…Too much… God… **More**. _

Without slowing or stopping, Hannibal caught his hands and pinned them to the couch, holding them there gently but with absolute authority, ordering Will to  _stay_ without a word _. Stay and be devoured. Stay and be adored. Stay and be mine._

How much _effort_ it took to keep himself still _—_ to not fight against it or demand more _—_ just to let go and surrender, to let everything fall away from him until his world was reduced to Hannibal's mouth and hands and a pleasure so concentrated and pure it threatened to drown him. And he wanted it to. _He would let it._

All he could do was _want_. His eyes rolled back, fluttering open and closed. Hannibal paused, teasing for a moment with his tongue, licking and kissing along his length, before mercifully, _mercilessly,_ taking him all the way in again. He released another rough, plaintive moan as Hannibal hummed around him, the vibration sending deep pleasure shuddering through his body. He arched up again, _more_ , grounding himself in Hannibal's firm grip around his wrists. "Hannibal — " The name was a gasp and a plea and an order, all he could manage, gravelly and rough with need. 

Hannibal reveled in the symphony of sounds he was coaxing from Will’s lips, relishing each one for the gift it was — the deep moan as he licked and teased, the desperate cry as he swallowed him down, the need he heard as his name spilled, rough and demanding. To have Will beneath him like this, surrendering to the pleasure he offered, it was all he wanted, everything he could ever need.

He knew Will was close to the edge, his breath coming fast and rough, his cock impossibly hard and unyielding in his mouth — choking him, filling his throat as he forced himself down around it. Will’s hands had balled themselves into fists under his grip, but didn’t fight him — relinquishing all control in his pleasure. 

Hannibal slowed his pace one final time, savouring the electric tension he could practically taste on Will's skin, sliding his lips up his full slick length, Will's hips thrusting up to follow his mouth, begging for more. He lingered on the tip just long enough to entice a deliciously desperate moan… finally relenting and quickening his pace once again, fast and tight and deep, so deep, twisting his tongue rhythmically over the head of Will’s cock before plunging him back deep into his throat. He could feel Will cresting, his orgasm mounting. He wanted nothing more than to taste him… _Yes Will, come for me…_

“H…Hannibal…I can’t…I’m going to…” 

He hummed his wordless permission into the base of Will’s cock, cutting off his words with another deep thrust into the back of his throat. Releasing Will’s wrists, he pressed his palm one final time into the scar on his belly, wanting to feel him under his hands as well as his mouth, sweaty and panting… Will’s hands shot to the back of his head, gripping his hair as he sucked him full and slick from root to tip, once, twice, three times… Will’s cries building with him in an open-mouthed crescendo, pulling him down to bury his cock deep in his throat, his entire body shuddering as he spilled into him, salty and hot and copious.

He swallowed Will down, riding his climax, _consuming,_ milking every last drop that he could get, lapping his tongue gently over every inch of sensitive skin. He wanted to offer himself up to this new decadence that surpassed all others — this new sustenance that he could devour over and over and over. 

Eventually Will relaxed his grip on his hair, running his fingers through it, smoothing back the strands that had come undone and now hung in his eyes. Those fingers continued their electric path, grazing down his cheek to grasp his wet chin, tilting his face up to meet Will’s gaze. Will was flushed and still panting, utterly spent, but a mischievous smile was already spreading over his face. Hannibal knew his own would make a matching set.

“You know I hate it when you’re right,” Words rough and breathless and utterly _satisfied._

“And yet you seem to love what I can give you.” 

Will huffed out a wry chuckle at that, stretching his exhausted body out along the couch and pulling Hannibal up to lay beside him. His limbs could barely find the strength, shaky and spent, but Hannibal yielded without protest, half-draping himself over his body and laying his head on his chest—a mirror of how they had lain the evening before. To Will it already felt like a lifetime ago… they had shared so much since then, _become_ so much since then. He felt a smile spread across his face, breath coming in soft pants into the air between them. Once he could lift his leaden limbs, he raised an arm and tousled Hannibal's hair teasingly, earning him a private smile in return. Will turned onto his side so they could lay face to face, breathing together in perfect symmetry. 

Will felt his eyes closing, growing heavy. He could _feel_ the warmth of Hannibal's smile as the man held him, nuzzling into his hair, letting him drift. Intimacy and intensity from Hannibal he had come to expect, passion wasn't entirely surprising. Pain and pleasure and overwhelming need he could expect, but this playful indulgence, this _ease_ was a revelation.

"Rest, Will." More than a reassurance, falling short of a command, Hannibal's voice was low and firm and soothing _.  
_

Will gently pushed him onto his back and tucked his head under Hannibal's chin, curling against him, soft and sated. "You are terribly comfortable. Don't mind if I do." A gentle tease, a fondness uncharacteristic of Will Graham in any capacity, least of all with regard to Hannibal Lecter. 

Will still marveled that just twenty-four hours ago he had still shied away from Hannibal's touch — that just yesterday, any hint at true intimacy had still been fraught with guilt and tension, and anything even resembling ease between them had seemed an utter impossibility. But somehow it all felt so _right_ — timeless and transcendent. Right now, in the waning light of afternoon and orgasmic haze, they felt like eternity. 

"Well?" Hannibal's eyes shone with mirth when Will finally lifted his head to look at him. "Are you quite satisfied?" 

"Oh, I think you know how satisfied I am, Hannibal." Will felt a delicate fingertip tracing the raw edge of the cut on his stomach. Hannibal's touch sent a surprisingly warm thrill shivering through his body, however muted, sparking a renewed daring inside of him. Hannibal had lavished on him pleasure and pain, worship and tenderness — he had reduced him to pure, electric _need_. Will wanted to return the favour — plus he still wanted to see if he could crack that impossible composure. Sitting up, he brushed his fingers, light as butterfly wings, across the scar on the inside of Hannibal's arm, before grasping his wrist and tugging Hannibal to stand in front of him. _Reciprocity.  
_

A smile, dark with promise, curved on Will’s lips as he dropped off the couch to kneel at Hannibal’s feet...


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal took a deep steadying breath. That smile would be his undoing, and he knew it — it always had been. Those big eyes looking up at him through thick lashes — shy, coy, challenging, demanding, brave, teasing… _Perfection_. Hannibal could feel the visceral response of his body, uncontrollable as he drank in the sight of Will on his knees before him. The two sides of himself were deliciously at war with each other. He wanted to protect him, love him, worship him, hurt him, own him, _ravish_ him… He wanted to give Will everything he could ever want, and take from him everything he could possibly give… 

Instead, Hannibal tried to remain pliant and calm as Will’s hands took him by the hips and pulled him closer. He watched as those eyes darted fetchingly… _purposely_ …between his eyes and his cock, swelling already at the front of his pants, mere inches from Will’s upturned face. Forcing stillness into his body, he willed himself to merely wait, to watch, to marvel—as always, he wanted to see what Will would do and he _knew_ that Will would always manage to surprise him. That contradiction—every contradiction that made up this perfect man kneeling at his feet was nothing short of _tantalizing._

Hannibal felt himself twitch and harden as Will locked that mischievous gaze on him once again, his hands tracing down the front of Hannibal’s hips and dragging over the thin fabric of his pants. Will’s fingernails scratched along the outline of his cock, light at first, then unexpectedly hard, sending electric current ripping straight through him. Try as he might, Hannibal couldn’t help the small noise that escaped him — half groan, half exhalation — his hips canting towards Will ever so slightly. Gratification flashed in Will’s eyes, quickly hidden again under that irresistible, coy grin, his courage and desire warring with delicious hesitation. Hannibal couldn’t get enough of all of it. 

Will’s game was clear to him now. He was after nothing less than his undoing. He knew the effect he was having on him — kneeling at his feet, feigning uncertainty, teasing, _pushing_ — he was reveling in it. Will still wanted to unleash the beast, and he knew _exactly_ how to coax it out of him. But no matter how much this realization made his fingers itch to grab Will by the hair and _take_ his mouth, to give him what he so clearly wanted, Hannibal wouldn’t give in so easily. If Will wanted to slip behind the veil, he would have to work for it. Hannibal’s lips twitched up in a smile of their own. 

Will felt a surge of gratification, a swell of arousal at Hannibal's soft moan, felt it _spur_ him. He drew a deep breath, trying to hide his feelings of complete _cluelessness_  beneath the flutter of lashes, the coy turn of his lips, the _hunger_ he knew shone in his eyes. His tongue slipped between his lips, wetting them, as his hands moved slowly to unzip Hannibal's pants. Still he stood quiet before him, his composure betrayed only by a few deep, shaky breaths as Will reached in to grasp his cock, freeing it from the confines of his pants. 

Up close, it was even bigger than Will had realized, achingly hard _,_ almost _menacing._ His eyes flicked up, searching for Hannibal's, letting an honest question cross his face for a moment… _What am I supposed to do with this?_ Hannibal’s hand cupped his face, soft and encouraging, thumb tracing the scar on his cheek, almost reassuring. He could see arousal and amusement flickering in Hannibal's eyes, neither flame eclipsing the other but _dancing._

Will chewed his lip, smiling shyly, hands stroking Hannibal in exploration and gentle introduction. He leaned forward, exhaling, letting his breath ghost over Hannibal's exposed length before moving in to plant a chaste, gentle kiss to the head. He felt Hannibal shudder, felt his need and his barely-controlled desire to _claim._ His restraint had won out, at least for the time being, as Hannibal brought his hands to his sides in an open display of restraint.  _Oh, but two can play this game._ On his knees, he wielded as much power over Hannibal as he ever had.  _More_ , given that their desires were the same. He had pitted Hannibal’s desire against his restraint. All he had to do was stoke the fire he knew smoldered inside.

Taking his time, Will moved up and down Hannibal's cock, lavishing it with soft kisses and exploratory licks, but always pulling away before any rhythm could be established. Looking up at Hannibal, who was practically _burning_ but remained entirely still, he held his eyes as took the head slowly into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking gently. Above him, Hannibal sucked in his breath and released it with a shuddering groan. 

For a couple agonizing, tantalizing minutes, Will continued that way — humming occasionally, eyes closed, losing himself in it — before he met Hannibal's eyes again. Dark, hungry, _challenging…_ Still Hannibal was gripping that impossible restraint. Will wanted more. Before he was even aware of planning or  _thinking,_ Will steeled himself and took Hannibal into his mouth as far as he could, choking when his cock hit the back of his throat, but _holding_ him deep _,_ and looking up at Hannibal with watering, defiant eyes. 

Hannibal’s throat contracted around a choked expletive, fingernails biting into the flesh of his palms as he felt himself die a small death of impossible arousal. Still keeping him deep in his throat, Will’s eyes struggled gamely to meet his own, challenging him, teasing him, _owning_ him…even now, even like this… _especially like this…_ Another moan escaped him as he felt Will fight his need to release him, his need to _breathe_ — tears gathering at the tips of his lashes before spilling from the corners of his eyes... 

_God…Will…_

Will finally released him with a wet, shuddering gasp — streaming saliva trailing between them, connecting them with an obscenity Hannibal found startlingly erotic. Will made no move to wipe it away, although a deep blush flushed his face. Instead he stared up at him with those challenging eyes, defying any shame, panting and flushed. Hannibal drank in this beautiful contradiction kneeling at his feet—this impossible and irresistible mix of fearlessness and vulnerability. He could hear his own breath mirroring Will’s, his chest heaving, fast and full of reckless need.

The walls of his composure were crumbling around him, and he knew Will would give him no opportunity to shore them up. Already he was tugging his hips closer again, his tongue returning to tease mercilessly along his length until Hannibal couldn’t help but groan — any semblance of reserve quickly losing ground to desperation. He could feel himself slipping, drifting, _drowning_ in his need. Any earlier resolve to win whatever game they were playing felt far away, inconsequential. Right now, he wanted the same thing that Will was coaxing…no, _demanding_ from him...Hannibal wanted to _take._

_You win, Will._

With a low growl, he fisted his hands tightly in Will’s curls, choking off his cry of surprise and triumph with one swift plunge, deep into the back of his throat. He held him there for only a second before dragging him off completely — Will’s body arching beautifully as he pulled him back hard by the hair and forced him to meet his eyes — the excitement and fear and satisfaction he saw reflected there spurring him on.  This was exactly what Will wanted, and Hannibal would give it to him. He would give him anything. _  
_

“Hands behind your back, Will, and open your mouth.”

Will had barely a moment to savour his victory — abandon blooming in Hannibal's eyes, need and desire finally overtaking that impossible  _control —_ he had barely a second _,_ unable to even think about complying before his head was wrenched back and his mouth and throat were filled once again. _Yes._ He felt his throat spasming, contracting.  _choking_...God, he couldn't  _breathe…_

But then his mouth was suddenly empty again and was left gasping for air, swaying on his knees, looking up at Hannibal with what he knew would be a mix of both alarm and gratification. He filled his lungs, deep and shuddering breaths, as the grip on his hair grew deliciously cruel once again. 

“Hands, Will. Now.”

And that  _voice_. Like molten velvet curling and pulling in his stomach, it whispered rich and dark to his deepest urges. Obedient was never a word one had ever associated with Will Graham — obedience was a virtue he had never learned, even as a child. But here, now, Hannibal’s voice reached inside him _;_ gripping, coaxing, commanding — it somehow felt _right_ to comply. _Instinctive. Safe._ Will shivered visibly, meeting and holding Hannibal's eyes as he clasped his hands slowly, deliberately, behind his back.

He parted his lips in a display of readiness; he knew they would be red and raw and glistening. Apprehension had his chest rising and falling with short, shallow gasps. Hannibal let him wait like that a moment, drinking him in with greedy, predatory eyes.  _Trying to regain his composure_. Will didn’t have much time to relish that thought before Hannibal tipped his head back by the hair, not unkindly but inviting no resistance. When Hannibal spoke again, it took all of Will's own self-control not to moan. 

"When I let you breathe, Will, you will look at me."  

_Yes_. His eyes closed, that dark fire nearly  _consuming_ him now. To have Hannibal possess him so entirely that he controlled his very breath, his _life..._ he looked up at Hannibal, thrumming with need _,_ and gave him the slightest of nods.  _Yes. I understand. Please._ On his knees, _helpless,_ Will shivered, looking up at Hannibal, eyes both defiant and challenging. _I can take anything you can give me. Please, I want it._

The smile that Hannibal gave him was barely perceptible but still complex, reassuring and proud but also predatory, full of hunger. Will felt one hand leave his hair to trace along his jawline, stubble scratching under fingernails. Hannibal’s thumb moved across his mouth, smoothing over the wetness on his lower lip, dragging, opening, pushing into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Will heard himself moan around it, keeping his mouth open and letting Hannibal’s thumb freely explore, keeping their eyes locked together as it pushed at the back of his tongue…wanting…waiting…

Will felt the energy and force emanating from Hannibal suddenly shift as his cock replaced his thumb, pressing into his open mouth to fill his throat again completely, so deep, hands returning to grip his hair. Hannibal's playfulness, his patience and restraint had been replaced by the intensity, the bestial ferocity, of the night before. Will forced himself to _open,_ to keep his hands behind his back and to keep his eyes on Hannibal's as best he could, even as they began to water behind his lashes.

Will felt himself tugged forward by his hair, being _filled_ , being _taken..._ felt the panic setting in, instinctive and organic, the evolutionary impulse to _breathe_. He choked around Hannibal, eyes spilling over, _pleading_. On Hannibal's face, pride and desire _danced_. Hannibal pulled back only _marginally,_ the hands in his hair tightening.

"Good, Will." He felt the softness of Hannibal's hand move to brush his cheek. "Hold it." 

_I can't, I can't —_ Will felt his throat spasming, _expelling,_ his muscles working against his mind to fight the invasion, fighting the urge to pull away and _breathe_. His back arched, tears pouring from the corners of his eyes as he willed himself to swallow around Hannibal, to wait until he was allowed to breathe. It was all Will could do to keep himself upright, to hold himself _open_ and let himself be taken. Owned. _Shaped and used._ This time it was a gift he offered freely, a gift he dared Hannibal to accept and dared him to refuse.  

_My turn to devour **.  
**_

But then Hannibal pulled him off entirely, releasing him, letting him suck air into his lungs with deep gasps. Will opened his eyes, looking up at Hannibal as he had been told — _commanded —_ blinking the tears out of his eyes. _Yes._

_Beautiful_. Hannibal could hardly catch his own breath. He was overcome by Will’s radiance. On his knees, gasping for air, eyes locked to his and glistening with tears — beautiful and burning and _ready_ , begging him for more already — _demanding_ it.

“Good, Will. Again.” 

Hannibal tightened his grip on Will’s hair and pulled him forward once more. Will let loose a moan, charged with need — his lips were slick and ready, open and hungry for him. Hannibal revelled in that sound, in how he made it change as he plunged himself past Will’s lips and deep into his throat — from open-mouthed moan, through satisfied hum, brimming then with desperation, finally choking off entirely. 

He began to work himself rhythmically, giving Will only just enough room for tiny sips of air, never quite enough — he kept him full, kept him gasping. Every muscle in Will’s body was tense but yielding as he fought against his need to breathe freely, his need for a reprieve from this invasion he had all but begged for.

Hannibal knew he wouldn’t be able to maintain control for long. He pulled out just enough for Will to get a lungful of air before pressing himself all the way in again, wet sounds impossibly erotic as Will’s throat opened around him greedily. 

“Hold it, Will.”

This time he let go of Will’s hair, gently smoothing it back from his forehead, testing his resolve with freedom. Will made no move to pull away — instead he tipped his whole body _towards_ him — choking _himself_ now. _God, Will…_ Hannibal felt Will’s abandon consuming him, devouring any possibility for restraint. Will’s need burned so hot it was like being consumed by a star. Will took through giving, demanded through submission — Will owned him, even on his knees. _Yes_. _Yours._

Hannibal could feel his control slipping as he did battle with that _thing_ inside him, always urging him to push Will as far as he could go…to push too far. He could hear his own breath coming in ragged gasps.

Hannibal felt Will’s throat contracting hard around him…he couldn’t take much more, neither of them could _._ He grasped Will’s hair again and pulled him off one final time. Will’s breath came shuddering and deep, but his eyes found his again instantly, dazed and wet and worshipful — they held him fast. Will sagged in Hannibal’s hands, letting him hold him up by the hair, chest heaving. Will clearly wanted to reach for him, but his hands stayed clasped behind his back, as though Hannibal’s command had completely obliterated the possibility that he could do otherwise — as if his voice was a tether, binding Will to him, binding him to this moment.

“Are you ready, Will?” Hannibal fought to get the words out, his voice a growl — that thing inside him screaming at him not to ask — just to _take_. 

Will held his eyes, hard, panting for breath, tears streaming down his face to combine with saliva, slick across his mouth and chin, gleaming on his chest. His cock stood hard and red between his legs, betraying his pleasure in this surrender. A tiny self-satisfied smile dared to show itself as he nodded his assent and opened his mouth. 

Hannibal took him hard and fast, holding nothing back, doing just as Will had demanded of him, holding tight to his hair and fucking into his open mouth. His orgasm built inside him like growing blaze, mounting with the rhythm of his thrusts, and when he finally came it was like annihilation, white-hot and all-consuming.

Will felt the shudder ripple through Hannibal's body, _felt_ the pumping heat of his orgasm, the blooming burst of a star reaching supernova. He swallowed desperately, frantically, not given much of a choice by the fierce grip Hannibal maintained on his hair, _flooded_ by that heat. He did his best to look up at Hannibal, he wanted to see him, even through the tears brimming over his lashes and tracking down his face.

Finally Hannibal released him, his tight grasp replaced by gentle, almost feverish caresses to his hair and face as he gazed down at him. _Worshipful_. Will allowed a full smile to show on his face, meeting that gaze head on. _Satisfied._ His tongue darted out over lips he knew were red and swollen, raising a hand to wipe deliberately, _intently,_ across his mouth.  

Hannibal could barely stand but had no intention of rushing his chance to drink Will in from this angle — still on his knees, still panting, tears streaming, mouth and chest wet with saliva. But it was Will’s _smile_ he couldn’t get enough of — altogether too pleased with himself, dragging the back of his hand suggestively across his lips — Will was still teasing him mercilessly, and Hannibal treasured it for the gift it was. How long had it been since they had felt this…levity…this ease? Had they ever?

“You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself, Will.”

“You’re looking pretty pleased with me too.”

That single raised eyebrow, the corner of Will’s mouth twitching up in a smile—Hannibal thought about trying to keep a straight face but realized he truly didn’t have to.

“You should be careful what you ask for, you little minx. Eventually you’ll get more than you bargain for with me.” 

“I’ve always gotten more than I bargained for where you’re concerned, Hannibal... and…did you just call me a minx?”

With a chuckle, he reached down to help Will up off his knees. As Will grasped his hands, Hannibal jerked him upwards quickly, throwing Will’s arms around his neck and pulling him in tight against his chest…Will rewarded him with the easy laugh he had been hoping for. _Mine.  
_

Nuzzling into his neck, Hannibal punctuated his words with playful nips, just hard enough for Will suck in his breath deliciously. “Mmmmm…perhaps you make a fair point… _minx_... You seem to know exactly what you want, _and_ exactly how to get it from me. Perhaps this is merely fair warning…You should know that I am inclined to give you everything you could possibly ask of me…and to take from you everything you can possibly give.” 

Will kissed him deeply then, arms still flung around his neck, pulling him down possessively. _Yes_. _Yours._ He could taste himself on Will’s tongue. Will released him slowly, leaning back slightly to meet his gaze, his eyes reflecting an indescribable amalgam of disparate elements—amusement, triumph, worship, pride, desire, adoration…all somehow pieced together. _Love, this is love._

“I want _all_ of you, Hannibal. I want things from you I haven’t even allowed myself to consider…yet.” He grinned before continuing, “But maybe I’ll start with that coffee…you may have finally exhausted me.”


End file.
